


Quoth Roxy: communication is fuckin' key

by aphwhales



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Communication, Earth C (Homestuck), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, anyway COMMUNICATION IS KEY, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphwhales/pseuds/aphwhales
Summary: You can’t really communicate. You don’t think you could even manage pestering Roxy or John right now, and usually that doesn’t take much out of you. But as you ponder that, your phone lights up.(Or: Jake gets overwhelmed after his boyfriends get into a fight.)





	Quoth Roxy: communication is fuckin' key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jakebot_Archive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakebot_Archive/gifts).



You’re jittery as you walk through the forest. It’s dark, the moon is a thin crescent in the sky, and it barely pierces the thick canopy of trees. Fortunately, you know this forest as well as you know the inside of your pistols. 

Wherever there’s a break in the canopy, you look up at the stars and search for the familiar constellations - the big dipper, Canis Major, Draco - and the not-so-familiar ones named after you and your friends, the creators of the new universe. The Zodiac was transferred over from the original Earth - you find Tavros’s namesake of Taurus easily, four corners and a bright cluster in the middle. Dirk’s constellation is harder, much dimmer than anyone else’s. Roxy’s, the Rouge, is the brightest of all, followed closely by Jade’s, the Gardener. Yours is the Adventurer, and Jane’s, the Healer. Dirk is the Fighter. 

You pick it out after a moment, nestled between Dave’s (the Knight) and Rose’s (the Prophet). Rose’s is quite bright, and you can hardly see the dimmer form of the Fighter behind it, barely-there clusters of weakly shining stars. 

You can’t help but think it’s very fitting for him. 

It’s getting cloudy, but home is the last place you want to be. When you left, Dirk and Tavros were arguing about something - you don’t have any idea what, you were on autopilot as soon as Tavros raised his voice. Dirk doesn’t raise his voice, not unless he’s under a lot of stress, but he gestures more when he gets angry.  
Logically, you should be austpisticing, but you had told them that you refused to bring those odd hate relationships into… whatever it is the three of you have. You don’t have it in you to get between your boyfriends, and you had really hoped they would get along for you. They said they’d do their best. 

You are decidedly starting to panic a bit, and it feels like you’ve swallowed a bunch of feathers that are now fluttering about your stomach. Roxy’s voice in your head: communication is suuuper important, jakey

You can’t really communicate. You don’t think you could even manage pestering Roxy or John right now, and usually that doesn’t take much out of you. But as you ponder that, your phone lights up. 

adiosToreador [AT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 24:11!  
AT: hEY, yOU DISAPPEARED IS EVERYTHING, oKAY?  
AT: dIRK SAID WE SHOULD LEAVE YOU BE FOR A BIT, sORRY WE STARTED FIGHTING,  
AT: oKAY, yOU’RE LEAVING ME ON READ, uH,  
AT: tHAT’S A THING THAT’S, uH, hAPPENING I GUESS,  
AT: cOME BACK WHENEVER YOU’RE, uH, rEADY,  
adiosToreador [AT] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 24:25!

You bite your lip and try not to sigh aloud. Communication is hard, but your boyfriends don’t deserve to be left on edge by your idiotic antisocial tendencies. You _really_ would prefer not to have to go back, though. Finally, you message Tavros back.

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering adiosToreador [AT] at 24:27!  
GT: Sorry about that pal! Just got a little distracted  
AT: yOU KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE TO, uH, lIE TO ME ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS, rIGHT?  
AT: wE KNOW YOU’RE UPSET,  
GT: Im really not i swear! Ill be back in a jiffy!  
golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering adiosToreador [AT] at 24:29!

You glance back towards the tower that serves as your home. It’s going to be a long flight. You’d better get moving. 

~

You get home in just over half an hour - Aradia could tell you to the minute, but she’s probably asleep right now, like a normal person. You and your boyfriends are, by that logic, not normal people. 

Dirk regularly goes to bed around 11:30pm these days, but he’s usually awake again by four at the latest. You, on the other hand, go to bed around the same time, but sleep much later. Tavros is somewhere in between, going to bed earlier than both of you and waking up at what most people denote as a sane hour. 

When you walk in, they’re both still awake, sitting on opposite sides of the couch. Dirk is perched on the arm further from the door in what Dave and Roxy refer to as “gargoyling”, and Tavros is leaning over the coffee table, doodling something on a sheet of lined paper. They both look up when you walk in - Tavros looks concerned, while Dirk has a deer-in-headlights look about him. 

You set your jaw, and think for a second, before finally deciding on saying, “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Tavros nods, slowly, but Dirk is the one who calls you out.  
“We can’t really pussyfoot around this,” Dirk tells you, sliding from his seat on the armrest. “That’s what we did last time.” 

“Last time, we never talked at all, because I was too much of a coward to say anything!”

Tavros shrinks slightly into the couch, and mumbles, “N-not that it’s my place to, uh, say it right now I guess, but you’re not supposed to be, um, talking about yourself like that, Jake, remember?” 

You sigh. “I know.” And Tavros is trying to blend in with the couch and Dirk’s hands are shaking next to his hips and logically you should be talking this out - 

“Hey - Jake, bro. You need to breathe.” Someone is easing you down on to the couch - the lumpy cushion in the middle, you think. Dirk is on your right, definitely - he’s holding your hand tightly. Or you’re holding his tightly, maybe. Your knuckles are white. Tavros, on your other side, doesn’t seem to know what to do - he’s witnessed a few of your panic attacks, but usually it’s not over something stupid involving both him _and_ Dirk - 

“Jake, breathe,” Dirk says again. Tavros settles for pressing against your shoulder with his own, and adds, “You’re fine, Jake. We’re all, uh, fine.” 

You nod. Dirk squeezes your hand, and Tavros rubs your knee with his hand. Finally, you say, “I don’t - I hate it when you fight.” 

“It isn’t, um. It isn’t your fault.” Tavros tells you gently. “You know that, right?” 

“It was stupid anyway,” Dirk mumbles on your other side. “Dumbest thing I’ve ever had an argument about, anyway.” 

You’re quiet for a moment. You had essentially tuned out their argument - you absolutely _hate_ confrontation, especially when it involves your boyfriends. Eventually, you simply repeat, “I don’t like when you fight.” It comes out more broken this time. 

Dirk glances away, and Tavros just nods. “Sorry,” they tell you together, overlapping a bit, barely a beat apart. 

“What,” you take a deep breath and falter slightly. “What were you fighting about?” 

Tavros and Dirk share a look, and then Tavros hauls you off the couch. You gasp, because you always forget that he can lift you - he’s much, much stronger than he looks. Dirk follows as Tavros carries you to Dirk’s bedroom, and tosses you down in the puppet and hat pile that Dirk has for some reason. 

“Why the puppet pile?” You ask bemusedly as they settle beside you. 

“Did you really want to sit in Tav’s Fiduspawn card pile, man? We can move there if you want,” Dirk replies with a smirk. 

“It’s just, uh, comfier? For this conversation.” Tavros adds. You shift nervously. 

“So, um.” You begin, ever eloquent. 

Dirk sighs. “Fuck this. Communication is fuckin’ key or whatever.” He leans back and presses his hands into his eyes, and says, finally, “I was. Fuckin’ stupid.” Oh Dirk, ever the talker. You quirk an eyebrow. 

Tavros, on your other side, adds, “He, um. He wasn’t comfortable with how much time we’ve been spending together.”

Dirk mumbles something you don’t catch, probably more self-depreciative bullshit. Louder, he tells you, “Not all’s rosy in Tavros-ville either.” 

Tavros shifts his weight slightly. “Um. I wasn’t going to, uh, tell you, but I guess that Dirk’s probably right?” When you stare at him quizzically, he clarifies, “Communication is, uh, key. I just, uh, feel a little...left out, sometimes?” You can tell he doesn’t want to be saying this. “Not, uh, because you treat me differently, but, um, because you guys have known each other for ages, I guess?” 

“So,” you begin, intending to clarify. “Dirk, you’re a bit jealous.” Said boyfriend opens his mouth to object. “Maybe not jealous, but something like it,” you interrupt before he can spew anything deprecatory about himself. “And Tavros, you’re kind of insecure?” Tavros bites his lip, fangs spilling over it, and looks away. 

“I… I kind of feel guilty sometimes, you know?” You tell them. “That I’m dating both of you. Because I don’t deserve it, I think. And you guys don’t get along…”

“We’re trying,” Tavros murmurs into your left shoulder. “It’s just, uh, different. Also, this is more like an ashen set up than a red one. With, uh, three people, you know? For a troll, it’s, uh, kind of likely that they’d have red feelings for one person, and, um, black feelings for another. I know it isn’t an excuse, though.” 

Dirk nods in agreement. “We’re trying. And don’t say that,” he scolds. “You deserve this.” Tavros smiles at you and murmurs his assent.

You frown. “I wish this was easier.” 

“Yeah,” Tavros agrees. “But, uh, all we can do is try, right?” 

Dirk reaches over to punch Tavros in the shoulder gently, friendly in his own special Dirk Strider way. “Right. We should watch a shitty movie.”

“Why?” Tavros is grinning like he already knows the answer, though. 

“Make our boyfriend feel better,” Dirk replies, hauling you up from the pile by the wrists. Tavros helps by pushing your ass upwards. “Cuddling works too. Jake?”

You decide immediately. “Cuddles. I’m friggin’ exhausted, you know.” 

“Panic attacks do that.” Tavros replies, gripping your hand as Dirk leads the way out. 

Later, cuddled together in your bed, you burst into laughter. “God, I can’t believe we’ve been taking Roxy’s advice.” 

“Roxy’s advice is pretty sound,” Dirk mumbles tiredly into the back of your neck. “Love you, Jake. Don’t hate you, Tav.” 

Tavros snorts, pats Dirk on the shoulder. “Flushed for you, Jake. And probably not black for you, asshole.” 

You know for sure Dirk is pretending to look offended behind you, but you giggle a bit and say, “I love you both.”


End file.
